


Unanticipated Restraint

by thebaddestwolf



Category: Broadchurch, Secret Diary of a Call Girl (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:50:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebaddestwolf/pseuds/thebaddestwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While wrapping up a case in London, Alec Hardy pays a visit to Belle du Jour. (Broadchurch/SDOACG crossover)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unanticipated Restraint

Alec Hardy wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he walked into the escort’s London flat. Perhaps he was anticipating a knock-off of a porn set, the furnishings heavy with red leather and black vinyl. Perhaps he was expecting the call girl to blend in with these surroundings, wearing a red and black bustier as a sort of sex den camouflage.

Instead, what he finds on the other side of the door is a charming space and a woman wearing a colorful silk robe and a sweet smile, heavy lashes blinking at him as she steps back to let him in.

“Belle?” he asks, suddenly worried he’s arrived at the wrong flat. This girl looks more likely to read him the weather report on the telly than offer him sex.

“That’s me,” she smiles, the left corner of her lip cinching upward. “Alec, right?”

“Right. Yes.”

“It’s horrid out there, isn’t it?” she asks as she reaches up to brush some of the raindrops off his shoulder. “Here, let me take your coat.”

“I’m used to it,” he mumbles, shifting as he shrugs the jacket off his shoulders and hands it to her.

That’s when the adrenaline coursing through his veins mixes with doubt, and he wonders if it was a mistake to come here after all. He’d been called to London for a hearing, tying up loose ends of an old case that he couldn’t forget soon enough, and decided he should use his one free night in London to take advantage of the anonymity the city had to offer.

Anonymity that is severely lacking in the town he now calls home. Any time he tried to pursue a woman in Broadchurch she would hesitate, put off by his position in the police force, by his gruff exterior. And it’s not like he was looking for a relationship — he’d tried that route, didn’t much care for it after the way the last one wound up.

No, what he decided he needed was a night of easy, adult companionship, and a quick web search on his mobile between sessions at the courthouse had brought him to the Discrete Elite website. During the next break, he rang the agency and set up a time with whomever was available that night. He was given a name, Belle, the fee, and an address on South Bank. And that was that.

He’d been excited when he rang her buzzer, fidgeting in the lift with nervous energy. But now that he’s in her flat, watching the soft blonde curls brush against her cheeks as she placed his jacket on the coat rack, he wonders if he’d been too brash.

“Would you like to come through?” she asks, pointing behind her and shaking him from his thoughts.

He nods and clears his throat, feeling stiff and awkward. As he walks he feels the envelope filled with notes against his thigh and quickly digs it out of his pocket before they reach the sitting room.

“Ehm,” he starts, proffering the bundle to her while studying the pattern of the carpet.

“Oh, thanks,” she says, taking it from him and quickly stowing the envelope somewhere in her robe. She gestures toward the bottle of champagne on the coffee table. “Care to do the honors? I’ll be right back.”

He nods and with a smile she’s gone, disappeared into some room off the main hall. Alec only then realizes she’s wearing stilettos, noticing the click-clacking tone of the heels change as she moves from the carpet to hardwood to tile.

He loosens his tie as he sits on the sofa and inhales deeply, taking a moment to appreciate the steadiness of his heart despite his nerves. He chuckles to himself as he reaches for the champagne bottle, thinking about how his first celebratory fuck using his new pacemaker will be with a prostitute.

“I should write a thank you letter to the NHS,” he mutters to himself, carefully popping the cork and pouring the fizzy liquid into the two glasses set out on the table.

“What’s so funny?” she asks from the doorway, leaning her head against the wood. For the first time tonight he notices just how beautiful she is; he thinks he feels his blood vessels constrict.

“Inside joke,” he replies, offering a quick grin as he extends a glass to her.

She quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t press him further, walking forward to take the glass from him and sit next to him on the sofa. They cheers and clink and sip and the ritual puts Alec at ease, or perhaps its the gentle calmness Belle exudes that soothes his nerves.

“So, what do you do Alec?” she asks congenially, taking another small sip of champagne before setting it on the table. He hesitates and she grins delightedly, tucking one stilettoed foot under her as she turns toward him. “No, let me guess!”

He takes a large gulp from his glass as she appraises him for a moment, trying to focus on the bubbles grazing his throat instead of her whiskey eyes on him.

“Nice suit, but not too expensive,” she says, feeling the fabric of his lapel between her fingers. “Shoes are a bit scuffed, so I bet you’re on your feet for at least part of the day. And you have the slightly dead-behind-the-eyes look, like you’ve spent hours upon hours in soul crushing meetings.”

Her own eyes sparkle as she grins at him, teeth digging into her bottom lip. Alec suppresses a smirk at how much she’s enjoying her bit of detective work as he finishes his champagne. Belle presses both index fingers to her lips, brow furrowed as she prepared to venture her guess.

“You’re a solicitor,” she declares, pointing her fingers at him questioningly.

“Something like that,” he says, rewarded with a pleased, toothy grin and a top up of champagne. “You’re quite good.”

“The best,” she winks.

Belle looks at him for a moment then, regarding his face like she’s trying to work him out. Alec holds her gaze for as long as he can stand, admiring the swell of her lips and amber flecks in her irises until he grows uncomfortable, finishing his second glass and finally starting to feel the effects of the booze.

It’s nice, this. Talking. Company. Nothing expected of him, for once.

“You’re quiet,” she states, taking the empty glass from his hand and placing it on the coffee table. “And I know about you quiet ones — you have the best imaginations.”

“That so?” he asks, allowing her to push the suit jacket from his shoulders.

When she leans toward him he catches her scent, something expensive and floral, yet musky; more like cologne than perfume. He sits forward as she pulls back, chasing the fragrance that lingers on her skin.

Belle smirks and swings one leg over his lap, sitting lightly on his knees as she begins to work at his tie.

“Yes, that’s so,” she replies, and he inhales deeply, letting his fingers ghost along her calves. “So, Alec, what do you daydream about while the judge is yammering on in his wig and robes? Do you look for a young, fit juror on the case, imagine bending her over the bench while the whole court looks on?”

“Not quite,” he breathes, letting his head rest against the cushion as she moves to the buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning them with practiced speed. The front of her robe has fallen open and he can make out the curves of her breasts and the lace of her bra, fingers tightening around her thighs as he yearns to touch more of her.

Belle follows the path of his eyes and finishes the last button of his shirt before her hands move to untie the silk robe. As it falls open and Alec’s gaze rakes over scant black lace, she slides forward in his lap, trapping his erection between them.

Alec’s breath catches in his throat as she begins to grind against him, lips trailing along his jawline. Belle reaches for his belt and he hears a metallic jangle of metal before she freezes.

_Shit_. He’d forgotten to remove his duty belt. He’d grown accustomed to wearing it each day, regardless of if he was on the streets or not. Alec swallows thickly and meets Belle’s questioning gaze, hoping this won’t scare her off.

“So, not a solicitor then?” she asks simply, eyes glancing between him and the handcuffs.

“More like a Detective Inspector,” he says, putting up his hands as her eyebrows rise. “But off duty. Promise.”

She gives him that appraising stare again and he sees her body language relax, tugging the device from his belt.

“You’d be in more trouble than me, mate,” she quirks, investigating the handcuffs with a sly expression. “Maybe you brought these on purpose, then. Maybe you fantasize about shagging the perp against the interrogation room wall.”

“It’s not like that,” he mutters, wishing she’d press her body up against his again.

But instead she steps off his lap and stands, holding her hand out for him to do the same. He obliges and follows her through to the bedroom, wondering distantly where the cuffs had gone as they’re no longer in her hands.

Dropping his hold as they reach the bed, Belle sits down on the mattress and slides backward on her forearms, the robe falling off one shoulder.

“Trousers off,” she says lowly, watching as he makes quick work of his belt, trousers, shoes, and socks. He takes off his vest while he’s at it and then crawls up her body, hovering over her as she lies back on the pillows.

He’s thinking about how badly he wants to kiss her and is wondering if he should when he feels her tracing the tiny incisions on his chest. Alec smiles to himself at another detail she didn’t let go unnoticed; maybe he’ll recruit her after this is all said in done.

“Battle wounds?”

“Something like that.”

“You’ve very evasive, Detective Inspector,” she drawls, squinting at him. “But I think I’ve figured you out.”

“Have you now?”

With that Belle pushes forcefully on his shoulders and he lets her flip him onto his back, chuckling lightly as she pins him down, holding his wrists above his head.

“You’re used to being in charge,” she continues, lips suckling on his earlobe in a way that makes him groan. “But tonight…”

Alec feels cold metal close around one wrist.

“You’re giving up control.”

Belle releases his skin and leans back to meet his eyes, requesting permission before fastening the other cuff on his wrist. He stares at her, contemplating, before giving a terse nod. He sees a flash of tongue at the corner of her smile before she leans over him, breasts brushing his face as she closes the second handcuff around his arm.

“Now you’re my prisoner,” she smirks, raking her nails down his chest. “Whatever will I do with you?”

Alec moves his hips helpfully, grinding his erection against her thigh. Though she only cuffed his wrists together, rather than around the bedpost, he keeps them above his head in order to go along with the charade. He’s never thought about being bound before but she sure seems to enjoy the sight of him at her mercy, and for whatever reason he feels compelled to give her what she wants.

He has a feeling most men do.

Taking his suggestion, Belle slowly peels his pants off so he is completely naked beneath her. Then she shrugs the dressing gown from her shoulders and reaches behind her to unfasten her bra, letting the lacy fabric slowly slide down her arms before tossing it aside.

Alec regrets agreeing to the cuffs now, wanting to feel the weight of her breasts in his hands, her hardening nipples under his thumbs.

“Come here,” he says hoarsely, but she shakes her head.

Instead, she glides her fingers down her neck, over her chest, and to her breasts, teasing her nipples as she slowly moves her hips against his length. He can already feel her warm slickness on his cock, wetness seeping through her tiny knickers.

His hips buck involuntarily and somehow succeed in pushing the lace of her pants aside, the head of his cock momentarily sliding through her folds. Belle gasps and stands on her knees, quickly tugging her knickers off.

Alec’s pulse races when he realizes she’s still wearing those damn heels.

Now fully nude, Belle climbs up his body once more. She presses her breasts against his chest and he arches into her, feeling her nipples against his skin. Her hands trace his biceps until they come to rest on his wrists, fingers closing over skin and metal.

When she finally kisses him, Alec growls.

Their kisses are wet and frantic, her breath coming in short, hot puffs against his skin. She catches his bottom lip between her teeth and he moans, taking advantage of her next breath to plunge his tongue into her mouth.

Alec grinds against her again, once more seeking contact with her slick folds, but Belle lifts her body off him suddenly, reaching somewhere off to the right. He realizes she must be grabbing a condom and mentally kicks himself for not even thinking about protection, his mind so clouded with lust.

He doesn’t linger on that fact, however, as he realizes her left breast is now hovering just above his face. Leaning his neck forward, he captures her nipple in his mouth, grinning around the bud as he hears her gasp. He then hears a crinkling and she must have found what she was looking for, but Belle only moves her body closer, allowing him to drop his head back onto the pillow while he suckles and nips at her breast.

As Belle’s gasps increase in frequency Alec releases her and she understands what he’s after, shifting her body so he can take her other nipple in his mouth. She reaches behind her and takes his cock in her hand, slowly pumping as he groans around her skin.

After a moment she pulls herself from his lips, inching down to sit atop his thighs. Her curls are disheveled now, tousled gorgeously around her face, and once again Alec can’t help but marvel at how beautiful she is. He thinks she should be smiling down at him from a film billboard on the M4 rather than hovering above his cock, tearing a condom wrapper open with her teeth.

On second thought, maybe she’s perfect right where she is.

Belle places the condom on the head of his cock and lowers her mouth onto him, slowly pushing the latex along his shaft with her tongue and lips and teeth until the material is taut. Alec’s chest heaves as he watches her take him in her mouth again and again, feeling her tongue flatten against the underside of his cock before swirling around the tip, her hands gently caressing his balls.

“Fuck,” he breathes, dropping his head back onto the pillow.

“That’s more like it,” she says, after releasing him with a pop. “I like my prisoners to be loud.”

Alec opens his mouth to utter some sort of retort, but all witticism leaves his brain as she slowly sinks down onto him, tight, wet heat all-encompassing.

“So where have I captured you?” she asks, riding him at a maddeningly slow pace. “An alleyway? Abandoned warehouse? Are you sprawled on the pavement, surrounded by stolen cars?”

“The beach,” he breathes before he’s even processed the thought. He shakes his head slightly, wondering where that came from.

“Ooh, the beach at night, how romantic,” she muses, gradually quickening her pace, fingers sprawled across his chest. “But you’ll get sand in all your bits.”

“In the lifeguard hut,” he clarifies, groaning as she tightens her muscles around him.

“Oh good, no one can see us,” she gasps, speeding up even more. “They’ll just hear.”

With that Alec lifts his handcuffed arms for the first time, looping them around her neck and flipping her over onto her back. Belle gasps again and giggles, and though his cock slips free during the rotation he manages to guide himself back into her without the use of his hands.

Crushing his lips to hers, he pounds into her, the sound of wet slapping filling her bedroom. Alec’s heart is racing now, but as he waits for the pain to come he remembers that’s a symptom of the past; in its place, he finds exhilaration.

He feels his balls begin to constrict and he props himself on his elbows, making some space between their bodies as he continues driving into her.

“Touch yourself,” he says, resting his forehead against hers. “Want to hear you come.”

Biting her lip and meeting his eyes, Belle slides her hand between them to rub her clit as she wraps her legs around his waist, heels digging into his bum. Every few thrusts her fingers brush against Alec’s cock and he groans.

“Close,” she moans, and he slams into her harder, whispering  _please_  and  _fuck_  and  _come_  against her neck.

As she begins to call out her release, a rich, deep moan as her muscles flutter around him, Alec lets go, grunting as he comes, imagining he’s spilling everything into her and not some protective barrier.

Keeping his arms wrapped around her neck, he pulls out and rolls them onto their sides, smiling at each other as they both catch their breaths.

“What’s at the beach?” Belle asks after a moment, sweetly kissing his bottom lip.

“Home,” he replies simply, slipping one of his legs through hers.

“In Scotland? Or is it a good, rocky, English beach?”

“The latter,” he smiles.

“Mm, my favorite kind.”

“Don’t knock it.”

“I’m not! Used to go to the beach every summer when we were little. Gave my first blow job in a lifeguard hut, in fact.”

“Oh, now you’re just taking the piss.”

“Am not! Why do you think I just came so hard?” she winks.

Alec laughs, truly laughs, a deep, rumbling laugh that starts in his belly and erupts through his chest, for the first time in weeks. He decides he’ll have to visit London more often, if only to discover what else his detective of a call girl can unearth.

 


End file.
